


Fireside

by inthegrayworld



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-22 20:12:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13174350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inthegrayworld/pseuds/inthegrayworld
Summary: Prompt was Kylo/Hux "Tension".May or may not be shippy.Spoilers for The Last Jedi and the Phasma novel.Happy Holidays mysterious recipient! Thanks for giving me the opportunity to write about the First Order :). I may still go ahead and write a thing about the Knights of Ren, because I also liked that prompt.*Kylo Ren and General Hux have a conversation in the aftermath of the events of Last Jedi.





	Fireside

There was no service for the Supreme Leader—former Supreme Leader, Hux mentally corrected himself. Instead, Snoke’s remains was to be fed to the engines that power the Finalizer, the First Order’s de facto flagship after that business with the Supremacy (weaponized hyperspace jumps—that’s something Hux filed away for later use).   
  
In the engine room, the nondescript black box waited in front of the boiler. Hux had suggested some form of ceremony - it was only proper - people expect these sort of things - but Ren had responded by giving him a look, and the passageways to his lungs had seized up until Hux had held up a hand— _okay, okay, we’ll do it your way_.  
  
Ren stood before the box, the flare of the boilers touching his dark cape with sunset. Hux never thought he would, but he actually missed that damned mask.  
  
“Supreme Leader,” he said, managing to keep most of the sarcasm out of it.   
  
No response.   
  
“We need to discuss the deployment of the fleet.”  
  
Ren turned his head the smallest of inches to the side, so that Hux could see the silhouette of his face. Hux had seen Ren’s eyes before - had stood close enough before the man to see the storm that raged inside them. The storm was still there, but there was something different to it—a touch of melancholy that Hux caught like a Loth cat would a rat in the long grass.   
  
“How does it feel?” he found himself asking.  
  
Ren’s eyes narrowed.   
  
“To—“ Hux made a vague gesture with a gloved hand. “—lose a paternal figure.”  
  
To _lose_. It was no secret that Han Solo had died at Starkiller Base. The popular story was that Kylo Ren had cleaved through Solo with the lightsaber, had kicked the old smuggler’s remains off the high-hanging walkway. But Hux had seen deeply enough of Ren’s eyes to know there was more lie than truth to that story.  
  
And Snoke—it was the girl who killed Snoke, Ren had said. Hux had stood before Snoke’s bisected corpse, had observed the fallen Praetorians, had watched the glint off Ren’s lightsaber still clipped to his belt when he came to. The girl had killed Snoke—another lie.  
  
Ren turned his back to the fire of the boiler, the painful glare from it catching off the edges of his eyes. Ren took a single step, closing the space between them, and for a moment, Hux considered just how much larger a person than he Kylo Ren was—Kylo Ren would not need whatever sorcery he possessed to end him.  
  
“You tell me,” Ren said, the words thick, landing like a strike.  
  
Hux’s hand closed into a fist. Briefly, he remembered a different box, also in front of the Finalizer’s boiler. He had given a speech - a good one, that he had written himself, extolling the virtues of Brendol Hux, how he would have wanted the First Order to carry on his work--noble man, good leader, honorable father—Hux had spoken the words to a line of stormtroopers, their faces hidden behind their helmets. Phasma had stood at the end of the line, still and straight-backed as any of them, but Hux had wondered if beneath the helmet she had been smiling, as one does when they know something no one else does. He would have.   
  
Hand still clenched, Hux stepped forward, standing close enough to Kylo Ren to see the constellation of moles on his face, the angle of his nose. There was something to the way Ren’s mouth pulled up at the corner, just a little bit, as though he were using every bit of his strength to contain something that threatened to burst from within. Hux watched that upper lip edge out and felt heat, not unlike the prism-broken light that emanated from the boilers, surging through his veins.  
  
“It feels—“ Hux inhaled through his teeth. “ _Good_ , doesn’t it, Supreme Leader?”  
  
That crease at the corner of Ren’s mouth deepened, but Hux did not break his gaze. The storm in the pit of Ren’s eyes reared, and if there was ever a moment for it to charge—for Hux to feel invisible hands around his throat, or to find himself shoved against the wall, or thrown to the ground—it was now. The fabric of his gloves creaked under the dig of his thumb nail. Not for the first time, Hux found that he would have given anything to dig his thumb against the quiver of that mouth.   
  
But Ren looked away and Hux was almost thankful for it.  
  
“What were you saying about the fleet?”  
  
Hux took a moment to find his voice. “We’re scattered across the Mid Rim. News of Snoke’s death has begun to spread, the Admirals need new orders.”  
  
“Tell them to focus all efforts on the Resistance,” Ren said. “No stopping until we hunt them all down.”  
  
Hux stretched his fingers out, claw-like, before settling his hand inside the glove of his coat. He breathed out, deeply, and said, “That would be unwise.”  
  
Ren snapped around but this time Hux allowed a look of calm chiding to settle on his face. This was a situation he and Ren had been in before - at two diverging paths at the feet of Supreme Leader Snoke. Or in this case, what remained of him.  
  
“The New Republic is in shambles, we will never be more optimally placed to fill the vacuum,” Hux paused, before adding, “Supreme Leader.”   
  
Ren turned back towards the box, in a tumble of thoughts Hux couldn’t even begin to parse through. But Hux spoke up again.  
  
“Ren,” he said. “We must consolidate our power.”  
  
 _We_.   
  
Wordlessly, Ren lifted up a hand and the box edged forward, scraping on the floor, into the maw of the boiler. A plume of flame that covered every color in the spectrum rose up as the box began to burn. The light fell on them both.  
  
“I leave it to you,” Ren said.  
  
Hux did not bother hiding a smile, as one does when they know something no one else does.

“As you wish,” he said. 


End file.
